Hey, we are just getting settled, and they are giving us exams already! Could you believe that? We had 5 this past two weeks: microanatomy/histology, histology lab practical, Gross anatomy, gross practical, and physiology. During this time, I developed a new sleeping habit: don't sleep. Seriously, I sleep as soon as I get home from class, until about 8 or 9, then study until about 3 AM. It seems to work.

A Father’s Day Without Children

With the fast approach of the traditional American holiday known as Father’s Day, for the first time in my life, I have to contemplate it in loneliness. Before marriage and children, Father’s Day could be one of two things for me. Sometimes it was a fantastic opportunity to go shopping with my mother to buy things that she would never buy, but could be justified as items or memorabilia that would help bring us – my father and I – closer. We would also get to eat out, at fancy restaurants, like Perkins or Denny’s (retrospectively, which, during the 1980’s was about the only place that young children could feel comfortable in, while not having to go to the counter to order). Other times, especially during high school, it was one less day I could do what I wanted to, in a weekend that never seemed long enough.

I thought that when I had kids, Father’s Day would be a great time to be pampered, and given gifts, breakfast in bed, and to be generally spoiled. Sometimes my wife would give me presents from our pets, at the time our “children.”

The significance of Father’s day to me changed April 29, 2003. That day Xavier Richmond Caangay came into my life. The importance doubled March 9, 2005, when our family was joined by Cameron Richmond Caangay. After that first child, Father’s Day was no longer about getting a present and going out to a late lunch after church.

Father’s Day became a solemn reminder. Of the prayer of thanks I gave to God at each of their births. Of my inherent duty and privilege to protect and provide for them, to help them define their own masculinity and place in society. Of my role as a big rock of constancy around which they may explore the tides and eddies of their expanding ocean in relative safety, knowing they can always latch onto me when the currents became too swift.

This year, 12,000 miles and 4 years away from the family I made, Father’s Day is an accusing finger reminding me of all the things that I was entrusted to do – entrusted by a benevolent God who gave me two healthy boys – but will not be able to do. Not for a long time.

I read a column in the Metro Manila, by Anita S. Meily. It ended with a story taken from Frank Mihalie.

A devoted father was ushered into the hospital room where his seven-year old son was near death’s door due to some incurable illness. The child sensed that things were not going well.

He asked, “Am I going to die, Daddy?”

“Why do you ask, son? Are you afraid to die?”

“No,” his boy said, “Not if God is like you Daddy.”

The article ended with the question, “Are you this kind of father?”

Sadly, at this point, I have to answer no.

I am old enough now, having accumulated enough life experience, to know that I can’t make up for lost time. Father’s Day will evermore be another reminder to me: to cherish every moment I have with my children like it is the last I will ever experience. Every day you spend with them is a priceless and irreplaceable gift.

Fathers, just love your children.